


Satisfaction Brought It Back

by PluvioPencil



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood and Gore, Boarding School, Cat Kozume Kenma, Dark Acadamia, Family Secrets, First Kiss, Harry Potter References, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Kenma takes cat naps on many laps, M/M, Magic, Magic School, Making Out, Murder Mystery, Mystery, No Beta we die like Oikawa's dream to defeat Ushiwaka, Romance, Sexual Content, Shapeshifting, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Soulmates, Tanaka's a bat because reasons, Video & Computer Games, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24036622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PluvioPencil/pseuds/PluvioPencil
Summary: The Kuroo has secrets, the cats are weird, students keep vanishing, and bullying is Rife at The Academy.Kuroo's only solace is a mysterious boy from the scholarship sector; Kozume Kenma, but he also has secrets, and Kuroo is nothing if not nosy.I MESSED UP CHAPTER ORDER :''''(So imma rewrite it all and then post
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Haiba Lev/Yaku Morisuke, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 13
Kudos: 50





	1. Missing Roommates

**Author's Note:**

> Originally called Twisted Roots

Three days into school and all his text books were in the pond. Perfect.

You'd think, that after middle school, childish games and playground bullies would be a thing of the past. Kuroo leaned further out the window as a duck landing across his text books, cursing at it. A fowl situation, but not as bad as the classes he would have to get to; text bookless and bound to be put in his first detention of the year. Beating last year's 2 week record by a land slide.

Waking this morning, to a cold duvet, open windows and his stuff thrown across the room he'd realised something was wrong.

Kai's warning last night had turned out to be true.

Rumours were a huge problem in the school. And last year, after an experimental make out with a boy, lucky bastard was in his third year and had left, behind the sports pavilion had gotten out, Kuroo had become the black sheep of the school. Rumours had now spread of his supposed promiscuity and girlfriend-nicking tendencies; neither of which were based in fact. 

Kai had told him that Daisho had changed over summer, and apparently, that started with the boy's dormitory annual party; that is the party last night Kuroo was not invited to, but was, judging by the mess of his room, a large part of the entertainment last night.

He might of heard it, if he didn't sleep like a log.

He slammed the window shut and finally did up his stupid-sick coloured tie, barely sparing a glance at his mess of a bed, and swung his grey backpack on. Empty apart from a note book, some pencils scrounged from the teacher's supply cupboard and a water bottle. 

He wondered how many of the students had the world's newest laptops and i-pads, sleek and shiny. At least half.

He supposed Terushima a was lucky, in that he'd vanished before their room got trashed. Although, the other side of the room, shiny suitcase, gleaming red guitar, flawless expensive speakers were untouched. 

Terushima, may be less prim and proper than most of the school's student body. But he was just as rich. The guitar was flawless, smooth curves of bright red. High tech speakers left unguarded, under his bed. Of course, he wasn't the prairie of the school. It was safe. Half of Kuroo's clothes were gone, his shirts had holes cut over the nipples but with the heavy snow falling outside he could comfortable wear a t-shirt underneath and a jumper under his blazer so nobody would notice. 

He turned through the maze of dorm rooms, awkward shapes bent around bathrooms, bedrooms, common rooms, laundry rooms and sort-of kitchens. Sort of, because there was a kettle and a fridge. Enough to make tea and store the milk for said tea; for the people who liked European teas. It was useful for little else. Clearly not storage, any chocolate left there would be snatched up in minutes, although, it seemed taking things from peoples rooms (for example Kuroo's text books) was becoming more common place.

The centre, of the building, between the boys and the girls' wings, was a dark and somewhat spooky stair case. No windows, bad lighting. At least one person had broken their arm here last year. They shouldn't really have been running from a teacher after sneaking int other girls' wing. 

The hall between the two wings held the boarding teacher's rooms. Strictly out of bounds. Strictly locked tight.

The steps creaked below him, the previous principles of the school stared from their dark frames. Mr Asakusa peered over grey spectacles. Disapproving of Kuroo's less than perfect uniform, his undone laces, dancing under foot as he leapt onto the ground level and turned straight into the dining hall to escape. 

The big windows looked out over the wide grass of the back at the school. A very different story from the entrance way, the path lined by trimmed hedgerows, gardens separated into neat segments; the rose gardens, the mini maze, the garden for the stone display, walling off little ponds and grottos. Little white benches, metal curled into swirling branches, holding dainty leaves or older wooden ones, beaten down by the sun and rain. It was pretty. Except its backing of the grey school, gothic western architecture drowning any beauty in inky shadow. 

The back of the school was open, tall grey grass but the small stream darting fish in the summer, frozen now, was nice to seat beside in the summer. 

Little mown paths lead to the sport pavilion, a stunning modern build for the sports hall and squash courts connected to a grey cube which was the swimming pool.

To the right of the school, was the scholar's house, an old mansion with a single huge chimney and glowing with warm light in the early morning.

Why the scholars were scholars was oddly enough, unclear. He assumed music, arts maybe sports or rare talents. Something old schools liked, pretty skills parents used to show off their pretty little robots-sorry children. If there had been an academic scholarship Kuroo would've applied based solely on his chemistry and biology marks; exemplary if he didn't think so himself.

But there simply wasn't an option to apply. 

It was invite only.

It the scholars weren't secretive enough, it was his own mother who lied to him the most. A cook by day and judging by her cagy behaviour when questioned, superman by night.

Beyond all of these, surrounding the school like an army of the Greenman's warriors invading the school.

Kuroo was obsessed with the forest.

The trees were so so very tall, dark and tangled in foliage at their roots. There was something about the forest, obscured and secretive. Of course Kuroo had gone in there, only to be dragged out by the grounds keeper less than 30 minutes later. It had been his mother who had been furious. Surprisingly. And while she was a tough women, strict in a firm by caring way, she's rarely got angry at Kuroo's curious adventures. And she hadn't just been angry. She'd been snarling mad.

In the very distance of the grass, was four tiny looking green houses, to the west, the sports pavilion, one part modern and gleaming, the other, a concrete cube for the always-too-cold pool. It made a great escape. 

Kuroo sat at one of the long Hogwarts-esc tables, his plate of gathered food from the buffet steaming warm. He was hungry. He had an appetite like, well in the words of his mother, a Gashadokuro; a giant skeletal monster. Where no matter how much he ate, the food fell between his ribs. Kuroo didn't think he was that bad, but nobody argued against Kuroo Fuyuki. 

If memory served him, Gashadokuro didn't need to eat.

The teachers watched him sit, and then settled back into wolfing down their food like the vultures they were. They'd eye the students like collapsing wildebeests, then whoop down to steal their phones and study notes. 

He always sat alone. Although, when another boy slid along the desk, little food on his plate and a curtain of black and blond pudding styled hair covering his gaze, it was hard to think little of it. Sitting near Kuroo was a mistake, getting out the gameboy Kuroo spied was worse.

"You'll lose that to a teacher you know."

The boy peeked up at him, gold eyes were surprising. Kuroo wondered if he wore coloured contacts. Either way, it looked damn cool. 

"I've never lost it before?" He returned to his game before Kuroo could comment, and they sat in silence. Although, not particularly awkward. Kuroo guessed, this was just a quiet kid, one he didn't recognise.

"You a first year?"

"No second." That was odd. It was impossible not to run into people in the dorms. He looked at the boy, at how the teachers spotted the game but made no move to take it. Oh, a scholar. Of course.

Like a meerkat, the boy straightened, turning to the door where two people had just entered. A surprisingly stunning boy, dark hair, darker eyes next to what Kuroo only describe as a human owl man-child. Going by his loud whining, that was turning a good number of heads, more child than man. 

Despite this Kuroo found himself eyeing the large shape of his muscles, he was somewhat jealous. 

He was only jealous of his body. Kuroo, wasn't badly built, but he wasn't very good at bulking up. He grew like a bean. At least, he wasn't as gangling and awkward as last year. He'd looked like a ramen noodle.

The pretty boy spotted Kenma, and pointed him out to Mr Owl, who immediately made a beeline for him, while the other went to the breakfast table.

"Hey!" The guy slide along seat, "Agaashi didn't wake me this morning! Can you believe that!"

"He's not you're personal alarm Bokuto." Pudding boy replied.

Mr owl- Bokuto, leaned on Kenma's shoulder and settled eery yellow eyes on Kuroo. "Kenma, do you have friends other than us?"

"I don't know him." Kenma muttered. 

"Kuroo Tetsurou," He offered, to the perplexed man. His offered hand clasped and violently shook up and down.

"Hey, hey! I'm Bokuto Kotaro," A plate was slide under Bokuto's chin, distracting him. The beautiful boy had returned, and apparently, while not a personal alarm, did act as Bokuto's butler. Even his chastening came with a polite tagged on 'san' to his name, and a soft voice. "I'm a third year." He said, around a mouthful of food. "They're second years." 

"I'm in third year, I haven't seen you in class."

"Scholar," Bokuto said, but didn't offer anymore. "Have you done the Chi?"

"Chi?" Kuroo wasn't sure what he meant, until a piece of paper was slid next to his plate, more owl doodles covered the page than actual attempts at maths. "Chi-squared? Yeah, why?"

"I don't get it," Bokuto pouted, "Nobody can explain it to me. Do you know where I went wrong with number 5?"

Kuroo was taken back, he'd only just met these people, but after he'd gone through number 5 and then 6 over the dinner table with Bokuto, the other was begging for a study session sometime later that week, before wheedling him for his phone number. 

Maths over the table eventually had regressed into who could draw more owls. OF which Kuroo found, Bokuto particularly efficient in. 

It was fun, he'd admit, chatting with Bokuto, but when Daisho slithered into the dining hall Kuroo was making a hasty escape. Shoving his pens into his bag with half-hearted apologies and some BS excuses. 

Bokuto waved an enthusiastic goodbye, "Cya Kubro!" as He fled the room while Daisho's back to him, bent over the breakfast buffet. 

He was half way out the doors when a small voice popped up behind him. "You said you had a science meeting." He turned to find Pudding head over take him. "My first class is chemistry."

"Oh, sure."

They walked up the stairs mostly in silence.

"Your owl, with the golden hair bits and the double sword, was that Pit?"

"Hm? Yeah?"

"You splay smash?"

"Nah, my Ma has an old game of Light Mythology: Palu-someone's Mirror." Kuroo said.

"She has Palutena's Mirror? That old a Nintendo?" Kuroo turned to him in surprise, his voice had risen and he was leaning up into Kuroo's space, although he shouldn't be that surprised. He'd been fiddling with a little console, not playing, but clinging to it all the same. 

"You're a proper nerd, aren't you?" Kuroo smirked, grin stretching at Pudding head's indignation. "It's not a bad thing," He added quickly, raising his hands in surrender. 

"You're the one with the original Pit game."

"It's the original?"

Kenma shook his head and turned away from him and the stairs on the second floor. "My class is this way," he explained. "And you don't have to lie to escape from Daisho. We understand."

"What?" Pudding head was already slinking down the hall, tucked close to the wall, head sinking below his shoulders. 

Kuroo headed towards his class, history actually, because Mondays sucked and it was only as he was half way down to the next floor did he realised he'd forgotten to visit his mother that morning in the kitchens. 

Well, at least he'd met a cute boy.

It was only after the lunch rush had pasted did he managed to sneak in past the catering staff. Sneak was too weak a word, barged might be more realistic. Afterall, he only alerted 5 or more seeing past. He ignored one of the cooks indignant yell as he winded his way through the fridges and huge storage cupboards.

"Mornin' Ma," He grinned, spying the women towering over a curry, hands on hips as she watched the spoon stir without her. Newton's law of motion was an interesting thing. He'd studied it in middle school, writing an entire paper on it. 

"Hey spawn!" She grinned up at him, piles of curly hair stuffed into a tight hair net. "You shouldn't be in here!"

"SHHH" He bent to kiss her cheek, "Only half the kitchen staff saw me. The rest probably heard."

She seemed to startle, and turned back to her curry, stirring as she spoke. "Her's class? All your friends arrived?"

"Terushima disappeared the day after we all arrived back." He said. "Kai's around, Daisho's a dick."

"Ah," She hummed, a frown marring her face. "He grabbed someone the other day. Could've hurt then if someone hadn't stepped in before I got there."

"Grabbing?" Kuroo was surprised, Daisho was annoying, throwing textbooks out windows, called him names and somehow had most of the teachers on his side had the power to dish out detentions but nobody new how or why. If he threatened you with a lost Saturday, suddenly you were issued a Saturday detention within the hour, BS reasons undisclosed. But physical assault? "I'm glad he's not my roommate this year, 2 was enough."

"What did you mean by Terushima disappearing?" She asked. "Is he visiting his parents?"

"No, we exchanged numbers first day this year, I've texted him, no replies. And he's left all his stuff. The only thing missing is him, and his phone I'm guessing." He paused. "All his shoes are there. I know because he only has five pairs, compared to the trillions most students seem to have." He paused. "And we had a long conversation about his three volleyball shoes. They are real nice Ma."

Maybe for your birthday?" She bumped him with her hip. "Don't look so down kiddo, he's probably gone back to his parents for a couple days, families can be like that."

"I guess," He eventually agreed, but she looked more worried than she was trying to let on. She was a terrible liar, at least, when she tried to lie to Kuroo. 

"Anyway!" She said, shoving him away. "Spawn, you have class and friends and a social life. Go, I donno what kids do, play pokemon cards or something."

"Ugh, I'm almost 18," He whined. "How long are ya' gonna call me Spawn?"

"You'll always be my spawn, Tetsu, no matter what." She dismissed him with a flapping motions. "Go away, go have fun."


	2. The Maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo's hears about the current rumours; he just didn't expect to be centered in them.

Kuroo sunk into his seat five minutes before class. A little early and perfect for avoiding the traffic. It had snowed overnight, leaving everyone huddled up indoors and for once, not jealous of the scholarship kids, Daisho was one of many to watch with glee from the boy's dormitories. 

Literature at 9 in the morning every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday was simply unfair. However, Takeda-Sensei, at least didn't set seat assignments. While Chemistry was his favourite subject, the teacher was evil. He'd sat next to Daisho for two years in a row. With Oikawa on his other side. And while Oikawa was fun, he whined through all of chemistry and complained about Ushijima constantly. It was impossible to enjoy the class.

The first of what Kuroo assumed to be many frozen Zombies climbed through the class room door, Hands balled in pockets and scarfs up to her chin, Chiharu was clearly very very cold. 

"The scholars are so annoying," Chiharu, growled as she sat down. "I saw that weirdo, with the black and white hair?" She asked her friend, who nodded. "He was so loud at breakfast, if any of us did that we'd be in detention."

Probably because they're always squealing loudly and gossiping and bullying. Especially poor Haru. 

"I know right?" Her friend muttered, tossing her perfect smooth pony tail over her shoulder. "I've had three phones taken off me! I'm down to an I-phone 7!"

Of course the students here had spare phones for their spare phones.

The friend continued speaking. "Can't deny, he is hot."

"Hotter than the 4th of July!" Her friend agreed. "Except for the hair."

"Except for the hair."

Others joined the class, none he was particularly friendly with.

He almost groaned when Daisho entered the class, gliding over to talk to Kiyoko. She didn't look up from her book, simply turning onto another page, tucking shiny back hair behind her ear. He was leaning over her desk with a thin smile, leer really. Laughable since his sweet girlfriend Mika was just walking into the room, she spotted him and stalked over, pinching his ear.

Kiyoko whispered an apology which was quickly waved off my Mika. She was too good for Daisho.

She dragged him to his seat then left him there, right at the front of class and sat next to Kiyoko, they shared polite smiles.

Luckily, Daisho hadn't seen Kuroo. He seemed angry this term, getting angrier over the summer both he and Kuroo were stuck here, while everyone else was at their posh family homes, with their posh family.

Takeda arrived, welcoming everyone back after for a new year, but after his initial welcome, Literature started, reviewing the year before and the texts they would cover this term. 

English class drew on, and then so did history and classics and every other dull class he had. Biology and Chemistry (wonderful, motivational, inspiring) sparks in the dullish, boorish week. Kuroo drifted through school, acing science assignments and doing well enough on any others, scraping by in literature, for just over a month. In the early hours of each day he spent nestled in his rooms, surrounded by books and his cruddy old laptop games. In the evenings he spent hidden in dark corners of the library, working on his studies/avoiding other students. Mainly Daisho. 

While lonely, this way of school survival was most fruitful. At least, it was less likely to end up with books in the pond or mud in his bed. Sadly, it lulled him into a false sense of security, one that left him woefully unprepared for the rumours that started in October.

It was through Akira, quiet polite Akira, he found out about rumour A from.

"Kuroo?" He'd been stopped outside of the boys bathroom by Teppei, who was refusing to meet his eyes. "Look man, you seem nice. But that shit you pulled last year? It wasn't cool." He'd then stepped into the bathroom, letting the door slam shut in Kuroo's face.

Funny thing was, at that point, Kuroo hadno clue what he was on about. Kuroo had a few friends last year, Kai who fed him gossip, Yaku, until he somehow gained a scholarship and had been friendly with a few others. Including his currently missing roommate. 

"He's right." A voice said, Akira's apparently. Kuroo realised as he turned around. A close friend of Teppei's. "I thought you were cool. Weird. Loner. But you stayed out the way. So nobody cared that you were… you know?"

Kuroo raised one eyebrow.

"A fag." He answered.

"Bit rude," Kuroo berated, leaning back against the cold wall. "I don't know what I've done?" Unfortunately, this only seemed to annoy him. Akira was, easily frustrated, judging by the tantrum he through last year when they got their results back from exams. 

"As if you don't know!" He snapped. "Look, Daisho's annoying. But he doesn't deserve that."

"Daisho?" 

Akira was too short to tower over Kuroo, but that didn't mean his close proximity wasn't threatening. Kuroo literally had his back to the wall after all. Especially as Hanayama, Akira's personal guard- sorry friend, had just come around the corner, and was stalking towards them now. 

"yes! Daisho! Don't play dumb!" 

"What's going on?" Hanayama had arrived then> He was built large, intimidating, Kuroo was half convinced he'd been held back a year or three.

"I wish I knew!" Kuroo snapped, trying to shove between them only to be shouldered back against the wall. He glared down at them, glad for the extra inches he held over both.

"You slept with Mika," Itaru snapped, from his bedroom door nearby. "We all know."

"Mika? Mika Daisho's girlfriend Mika?" Kuroo dropped his aggressive posture. "Seriously? I was called a 'fag' not five minutes ago!"

He crossed his arms, the lid on his temper was cracked at best.

"Are you insulted? That people think you're gay?" A snide voice came and Kuroo almost screamed in frustration.

"I did not sleep with Mika," He snapped out, only to be answered sneers and laughter. He shoved them aside. "You know what? Believe what you want!" Only to stop short in front of one of the teachers, Nekoma, if Kuroo remembered correctly. 

"Lights out," Nekoma shouted, scattering the boys like a light to pill bugs. "Akira, Hanayama, stay here a second."

Kuroo made his escape, suffering only a warning glance form Nekoma, before slamming his door shut and sinking to the floor against its frame with a heavy curse on his tong. "I hate this school." He whispered. Ignoring the cool breeze that caressed his cheek, he'd left his window open. Good bumps rose on his skin and he buried his hands next to his stomach.

Eventually, he stood and went to close it. Having to lean out to reach the handle.

"Keishin, I don't think checking near the school will help." He looked down into the dark garden. His mother's voice faint, he he could tell it was her.

"We need to cover all corners, Takeda and me will check out the forest tomorrow." The other voice sound fainter.

Kuroo leaned further out the window, squinting into the dark shapes below. He was sure he saw movement, right next to the silver edged Koi pond, yet when he focussed, he saw nothing. He was too tired for this, and closed the window to a crack. Listening to the voices drifted up, as he settled into bed, kicking off his slippers. Having to rip one of and angrily chuck it against the door when his big toes got stuck in one of two holes.

"I think we should go look near the greenhouse." He mother said, Kuroo straining to here. "Maybe on Thursday? There's the under Yes agree." He voice disappeared, but Kuroo remained in the window, waiting for a bit more.

Kuroo hadn't known about the underground buildings. Although, it sounded interesting. He fell asleep with his engineering magazine over his face, and his mother's anxious voice in his ears. 

What he'd expected was that by breakfast, the rumours had somehow become worse. It started with him sleeping with Miku, to "Having relations with half the student body" according to the apparently Victorian era raised, Tomonari, and finally to somehow, orchestrating both Terushima's and Aone's disappearances. 

"You were his roommate!" Bobata had yelled at him by the time he slid into his class for maths, "And he's gone! Where is he?" He waited a second for an answer, Kuroo staring back in surprise. "Fine then!" He spat, shouldering past him and into the room. Every seat but one; front and centre, was taken. With a curse, he slid into the seat, hunching his shoulder's against the glares. 

Half way through class, he'd been pelted with spit balls, to which the teacher either didn't notice or turned a blind eye to. 

Three days later the snow had continued and somebody else had "gone home" for a "family emergency" which everyone really new was the teacher's code for missing.  
Three missing students and it was only a month and a half into the school year. 

Fleeing the spit balls and insults, which had evolved to "whore" by Wednesday and "murderer" by Friday morning, Kuroo tucked himself away in the Frozen maze, . Book under arm, i-pod and head phones under the other. 

His I-pod, an old model, but good condition, shiny, bright red, was his current joy. He loved music. And with his new headphones, he could avoid life for hours. 

He'd been there for a couple of hours, one of the garden cats, a grey one passing by at a distance and not being tempted by his 'pss, pss, pss' noises. The cats around the school were nice enough, probably here because students fed them. Not Daisho, he'd seen him throw rocks at animals around the school. Including a crow perched on the School's gothic gates and the grey cat; popular with the female students and a small calico who had a reputation for scratching anyone who tried to stroke it.

They were often seen around the maze, they seemed to enjoy slipping under hedgerows while humans were stuck following the paths marked for them. Kuroo had cursed the Tabby cat that lived here last year, but he'd disappeared with the graduating third years. Probably a pet a posh kid had snuck in. Hopefully, he didn't like the thought of the friend cat dying. 

He saw the cat again, despite the oncoming rain, there were other students in the Maze, and when the chatter got louder, he simple stood and moved away through the maze, until the voices faded. The cat had almost tripped him up, shooting out from under a hedge, then pausing to let Kuroo run his fingers over its smooth head.

"hey cat," He whispered, it's ears pricking, before it ducked under his hand and squished under a bush and disappeared.

His avoidance tactic worked well, at least, on raining days. And rainy-day lunches became, Maze and cats lunches. He had seen the Calico once or twice, but was not permitted to touch him as he was with the grey. He even ran into Yaku in there, and while his old friend didn't insult him, he couldn't look him in the eye. 

Rainy-maze-lunches worked for almost a week, and for a moment he was sure he'd found a peaceful place to avoid Daisho. It turned out to be a false sense of security.

Despite this, Daisho managed to corner him just as he reached the middle of the maze, "Hey Kuroo!" Koji, short as he was, managed to slither an arm around his neck and yank him down. "Daisho wants to chat with you,"

"Does he?" Kuroo shoved him off and turned back towards the maze. "Too bad, I don't wanna see him."

"Not an option," Kazuma stepped out from the maze in front of him, bumping him backwards towards Koji. "Sorry."

"Don't sound sorry," Kuroo grumbled. It was January, why were they even outside in the first place? "Where's your leader?"

"Here," Kuroo startled, hoping they hadn't noticed. But they were giggling, not so lucky then.  
With goons on two sides, a prickly hedge and Daisho on the other, he had little chance of escape.  
  
"Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo." Daisho sneered. "We haven’t seen you round this term. Been hiding with mummy the cook again?"  
  
"Studying actually." He pushed his hands deep into his pants pockets. "You should try it."  
  
"You're on a bursary, aren't you Bursary Baby." He hummed, polite smile twisted on his features. "Isn't that code for something?" He looked to his goons. "Men?"  
  
"Nerd?" Buff and ugly offered.  
  
"Poor!" Koji was grinning proudly.  
  
Kuroo couldn't tell if they were actually thick, or if they played it as a joke, a way to be not nerdy, not poor, not everything Kuroo was. Either way, he had mentally dubbed them Greg and Goyle, and thought they were living up to their new names really well. Kudos.  
  
"Intelligent, Is what I've been told. Although, for you people lacking Docosahexaenoic acid in childhood," Kuroo sassed. "Intelligent means-  
  
"Shut up," Daisho shoved him into the bush, the needled branches curling around his head and into his vision, the mud, as the edge of the path, was slippery, and when Kazuma pressed his shoulder into the brush he stumbled, other hand shooting up to grab the branches. Back pressing into the thorns woven through the bush. Too bad the roses sprouted from all the hedges around here. 

It was funny really, Daisho wasn't usually so aggressive. He might be angry about the rumours, but he usually started them. Painting himself the victim was why half the teachers though t the sun shone out of his ass. He'd had gone from playground bully to Narcistic major-league bitch in less than 2 months. 

"Think you're so smart?" Breath washed over his cheek. "We know all about you Kuroo. Fag." He added.

"I'm smart enough to remember to clean my teeth." Kuroo snapped, shoving him off, only for Greg to shove him against Goyle, who then bumped his back like a volleyball rally. Back and forth. Back and forth, until his back met the bush again.

His shift felt damp against his back, whether sweat or rain water he wasn't sure. Looking up at the turbulent sky, rain would be on its way, and hopefully put an end to his current predicament. Speaking of…

A drop splashed on his cheek. Just beyond the hedge behind him was at least two people walking, the small grey cat was probably enjoying his peaceful walk in the maze, the other garden cat might also be around. He'd seen them together once before in the gardens, but rarely. More often he saw the little calico, tucking itself out the way.

"OY!" Hands gripped his jaw as Daisho leaned in close. "I'm talking to you!"

"In this position," Kuroo grumbled through his fingers, cheeks pressed inwards uncomfortably. "I'd say you were coming on to me."

Daisho shoved him into the push, dew dripping slithering down his back. "You should leave, you don't belong at the school. You and your hag mother!"

Kuroo lurched forwards, hands coiling in the scruff of Daisho's shirt, pushing him away from the hedge and into the other, pressing into wet leaves. "Ass hole." He spat, fist raised.

Someone grabbed his right hook, pulling him back by the arm, another grabbed his other arm.  
"Stop!" 

"Get off." Kuroo snapped, kicking. "I'll f*cking kill him." He tried to jerk his arms forward, but while the two were shorter than him, they were clearly well built.

Daisho was glaring, his goonies stood beside him. Lips curled.

"You wouldn't dare touch me."

"I'm f*cking daring alright." Kuroo hissed. He was going rip that smug grin off that stupid head.

"Oh are you?" He tossed over his shoulder as he left. "Very funny Kuroo." The goonies followed laughing, one giving his the finger, the other miming wanking. 

"Ugh!" Kuroo shook the two off, feeling their arms loosen. "What?" He snapped facing them. 

It was the spiky head from the beginning of term. What was his name? And another, both bulky. It was seriously attractive. Kuroo couldn't help but notice, despite his irritation. These two looked like they could bench pressed with Kuroo sat on their backs. 

"Didn't think picking a fight with Daisho was a good idea." The new bloke said, he was shorter, with cropped black hair. "We stopped you."

"I see that." Kuroo snarked.

"Your that dude from breakfast! Few weeks ago?"

"Yeah," Kuroo sighed, feeling his shoulders cave inwards as aggression left him. "Nice t' see you again. I guess."

"I'm Bokuto! You?"

"Kuroo," Spiky-Bokuto slapped him on the back while Cropped hair held out his hand.

"Daichi Sawamura" They shook hands. "Sorry about interfering."

"That's fine. One against three is a mistake waiting to happen." Kuroo grunted, crossing his arms. Still, part of him wanted to storm after Daisho and put a dent in the smirk maul. 

Bokuto was opened his mouth, then paused, his phone erupting with noise. "Shoot!" He cursed, "I have class in 5 minutes!" 

Daichi sighed, watching as his friend jumped from foot to foot. "We'll see you later, Kuroo," He said, giving his friend a shove towards the exit of the maze. 

"Bye Kubro!"


	3. history

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma and Kuroo bound over video games, meanwhile another kid has been taken.

Kenma pushed the door open, a dozen classmates’ gaze falling on him. Whispered apology barely leaving his lips when the teacher snapped at him.

“You’re late.” Her tight bun swung as she turned back to the board. 

Kenma rushed to his seat, floorboards painfully loud amongst the giggles. A spare seat next to Kuroo, in the third row. He avoided his curious gaze, and sat heavily, sinking until most of him was hidden below the desk, Bag abandoned and left zipped up on the floor. 

The teacher huffed, glaring at his bowed head, burning into his hair, before the squeaks of chalk said it was safe to look up. 

Flecks of white gathered on the floor at the front of the class, 1600s scrawled in barely eligible writing. Surely, they could afford to change the blackboards to whiteboards by now? 

A particularly loud squeak made Kenma flinch and squirm. His ears felt like they were shrinking inside of him. 

A few other students contributed, listing various things that had occurred in the 1600s, Kenma hated this teacher with vengeance. “Nobody can leave for lunch until everyone has contributed.” Same thing every single lesson.  
It was unfair.

Kenma didn’t speak out loud. Kenma didn’t speak in front of strangers. 

“Kozume?” He ducked his head, “Well?”

While she dressed like McGonagal, the personality was all Dolores Umbridge. Absolute bitch 2.0.

“Well? Kozume.”

Nevermind. She was Mrs Trunchbull. “China, Ming Dynasty ends.” Kenma spoke, surely, but quietly. “1644.”

“Kuroo?” Kenma felt him deflate, the silence that followed was paltable. “Did you do the work?” The teacher was tapping her foot, surely, Kuroo did the work. He did the work every week. Then again, it wasn’t like he had no reason to be distracted. Kenma was surprised no students had run home ot their parents yet, or that parents hadn’t come storming in demanding children back. Over 10 students were missing. 10. 

Kenma’s maths class felt empty without Yamamoto arguing, Tanaka was clearly subdued when he noticed his missing friend.

In fact, Mika from this class was missing. Her friendly disposition drowning the class in grey cloud, nothing to push back against Mrs Trunchbull. 

“The Witch Trials.” Kuroo said quietly, slowly. “Just checking it hadn’t been said, Sensei.” He sounded calm, despite his jumper crushed in his fist. 

“Date?” The teacher prompted, crossing her arms. 

“I think you’re a bit old for me.” Kuroo grunted, raised eyebrow.

Scattered giggles, the teacher’s cheeks turning red. “The date of the trails.”

Kenma placed his hands on the desk, nudging him with an elbow. Kuroo was looking. He put one finger down. 9.

“1690” Kuroo said, Kenma quickly shifted to two fingers only. “2>” He added, “1692?”

“Thank you, Kozume.” The teacher snapped, “What happened in 1692?”

“Trial’s started.” Kuroo blurted.

“I’ll see you both after class.”

Class passed slowly, Kenma bubbling with the effort to sit still. It felt awkward where he'd spoken out like that, like fleas on skin or lying on a sandy towel. 

"Thanks," Kenma jumped a foot as he and Kuroo left the classroom, the teacher’s threat of detention and lost Saturdays thrumming in his ears. "She’s never liked me." 

They stand in silence, and Kenma fidgeted, looking at the floor, the clock, the classroom door, the nameplate.

"Anyway thanks, I'll see you 'round," Kuroo said; who turned and took off down the hall. He hopped halfway down, slapping a beam that was way out of Kenma’s reach. 

"Wait!" Kenma gave a start; hating how loud his voice was in the empty hall, cutting the silence like a hot knife through butter. Kuroo was watching him, eye's slightly wider than his usual expression. "Are-are you going to lunch?" He managed, only once the silence had spread to awkward levels.

"Hm?" Kuroo nodded, "Yeah, but-

"Good.” Kenma stomped up to him and waited for Kuroo to continue walking. “Let’s go then.”

They sat, tucked away in a corner, Kuroo checking behind him every so often. Slowly, but surely, his shoulders dropped, and he started to enjoy his meal.  
He hated the dining hall. The huge doors dragged stares to whoever entered, then eyes would follow that person all the way to the serving area, and then to their seats. The attention was physically painful. But in the corner, sat with somebody tall and therefore easy to hide behind, who was quiet, less exuberate than Hinata and Bokuto, let him enjoy his meal. 

“You enjoy history?” Kuroo asked.

“The Salem hunts are interesting.” Kenma said, pausing his meal to peek up at him. “I guess.”

“So, you like things like that?” He’s met with the discerning silent stare. “Witches, magic, supernatural.” He clarifies. 

He watched him for a moment, gaging something; what? Kuroo couldn't guess. “I like Harry Potter.” He offered. “And Sabrina.” 

“What Hogwarts house?"

"Ravenclaw," 

Kuroo rolled his eyes. "I pegged you Hufflepuff."

"Why?" 

"You're quiet, and small, and sort of fluffy looking."

He frowned, "None of those are the Hufflepuff characteristics."

"You're kind." Kenma raised one eyebrow, a frown marring otherwise beautiful features. The frown wasn't ruining them, it was adding to it, he looked cute. 

No Kuroo: that was dangerous territory. 

"You're sitting at lunch with me." Kuroo managed, "Despite all the rumours,"

"Rumours are stupid." Kenma muttered. “I’m smart enough to know that.”

Kenma felt Kuroo's attention. He still hated it. Like snow clinging to hair, or rain dripping off his nose. Uncomfortable. “So, you’re Ravenclaw because you’re smart? Newt seemed pretty smart, if not a little odd. Hermione’s smart.”

“I like learning.” Kenma grumbled. 

"you like video games right? What's your favourite?"

Kenma fixed him with a frown, disgusted (clearly). You can't just have one favourite game." He muttered. "What you play depends on your day, what you feel like playing, how tired you are, what you've eaten, if you're stressed."

"Ok," Kuroo grinned, cat-like and sly. "What do you play when you're stressed. Stressed about school work specifically."

"Animal crossing; pocket camp."

"Tired?"

"Animal crossing: Wide World."

Kuroo was smiling again, "You just like animal crossing, don’t you?"

"When I'm angry I play smash bros, or Assassins creed."

He laughed, and it was nice. "Feeling creative?" Kuroo pressed.

"Animal crossing: New Horizons… or Minecraft."

"I see we're back to Animal crossing." Kuroo joked, then startled: "You have a switch?" His eyes lit up. "So lucky." 

Kenma couldn't quite hide the smile and swung off his back pack. Kuroo looked absolutely giddy. And it was pretty clear, that Kuroo lacked money, with his worn cold looking shoes and holes at both elbows in his sleeves. It was also well known that Kuroo-sensei had her pay cut this year, reasons undisclosed; at least in the conversation he overheard. His was curious ok?

He pulled it out and held it out over the table; not over the ramen. That would be begging for water damage.

"Thank god you have the red and blue one." Kuroo cradled it in his large palms, thumbs brushing over the buttons. God, what a nerd. 

"I really want pastel ones." Kenma said. "Or the nostalgic ones."

"Those are so clunky though!" Kuroo gasped, placing his hand over his heart. Dramatic much? "Sleek is better." He then, passed the Switch back with a sigh. "I don't want this to be taken from me."

Kenma pushed it back, "Hold it for a second." Then stood, and hurried over to the kitchens. Leaving Kuroo stranded with illegal-dining-room-items, a sitting duck for the vultures. He hid it under the table while he finished his food. Startling when Kenma dumped something wrapped in napkins next to him. "Pie." He said, then picked up his bag and plate. "I have two-player games in my bag." Kenma offered. 

"Please,"

Kenma only really grinned when people weren't looking. It was rare when he grinned even alone. He wasn't really a smiler, or an expressor. But watching Kuroo whine and make mocking noises when he won at something was like watching a child at the claw machine. Desperate for each win.

They ended up sitting on the huge stairs, Kenma a step above, sneaking the apple pie out of the dining hall, wrapping in napkins and stuffed in pockets, although, Kuroo had gone and gotten more and then, instead of eating it like any normal person, he'd handed it over to Kenma without a word. Not that he'd complain.  
Kenma watched over Kuroo's shoulder, as Kuroo explored his "Very Cute" and "Awesomely laid out" Animal crossing town: Gotu Kola. 

"Why Gotu Kola?" Kuroo had asked, oohing over Kenma's shopping area and hidden museum.

"It's a herb," Kenma mumbled. "Supposed to help brain function or clarity."

"Who's this twat?" Kuroo grumbled, "I think he's hitting on me."

"Moose," Kenma laughed, "I haven't been able to get him to leave."

"He keeps calling me shorty." Kuroo grumbled. "No thanks."

"I don't think you have to worry about your height." Kenma sighed as his phone started beeping in his pocket, "Sorry," He added. "I have a class soon." 

"Class now?"

"Scholar stuff." Kenma answered, standing as his twitch was handed back. "Want to-" He hesitated, "Do this again?" he held his breath, cheeks warming despite his best efforts. How did one stop a blush anyway?

"Yeah, yeah," Kuroo agreed, standing as well. On the step down, they were almost face to face. And way to close. "That would, that would be really cool of you."

Despite the his sodden uniform and blue fingers, his ears were still felt hot, tummy warm from good food when he stepped inside the house. 

So distracted by the giddiness, he barely noticed the irritating journey back to the scholar house. With the snow thick, well, the slush now, it was wet and cold and tiring to travel. A mere 5 minute walk became an irritating 10 minute trudge. He slipped off his shoes, then flopped like fish on the floor, socks squashed under foot. He feet were so cold. 

His school trousers had thick dark rims around his shins, heavy and clingy with micro shards of frost hemming the bottom. They would have to sit on his radiator all night, and his room would smell damp and horrible. 

His numb fingers had tried 3 times to get the right code into the building, and now fumbled to get the buttons of his coat undone. In the end it slithered out the bottom of his coat, and threw it onto a hook, then picked up his shoes and dumped them on the wet wrack, right next to the door, several drying shoes already there: Bokuto's shoes, blue with yellows stars, sticking out like sore thumbs, next to them were Daichi’s shoes, dry and shiny like a sunny suburban dad’s. Of course Daichi would be the one to dry his shoes after his morning classes.

Kenma stepped up into the main room of the building, pooled warm light of the lamps on side tables and the dancing fire gave the house a cosy atmosphere, safe from the snow outside. 

“Hey Kenma,” Yaku looked up from where he was stretched across one of the sofas, book open under a yellow lamp. “Akaashi’s already there."

Kenma nodded, shifting closer to the fire, sensing Yaku had more to say. "I think Ukai's putting in more rules starting tonight... Including-" A long grey cat leapt up on his lap startling him. “Lev! Get off!” He shoved, but claws dug into his stomach and he squarked. "You blood feline!" Yaku snarled, as Lev forced his way up to Yaku’s chest.  
Kenma held his hands closer, feeling blood slide down to his finger tips. 

“You shouldn’t have helped him with his maths last year.” He muttered.

It had started then, Yaku sitting Lev down in the scholar house’s dining room and going through 8 pages of maths with him, hours of a Saturday. And lev had talked with the other third years about it with at first, annoyance. He’d hidden from Yaku in shelves, on top of doors and beams. 

And then, there’d be a change. It had been Kenma who’d spotted it first. Lev simply started follow Yaku, to his forced maths tutorials and then skipping to seek Yaku out, and finally, pestering him for help with all his subjects. Even Russian, which Yaku didn’t take. 

Then, Yaku had woken up half the house at 7 in the morning when he’d woken up with a cat on his face. Some of them, up on the west wing of the third flood, understood exactly what lev was feeling. Kenma knew in theory. But that was all.

Lev had chosen Yaku. Although Yaku was either unpleased, which in all honestly was insulting, or was simply oblivious was yet to be seen. Kenma hoped for Lev’s sake it was the latter.

He could see Bokuto on the second-floor balcony, looking down on the sitting room; dejected, huge body leaning on the banister. He looked like a kicked puppy, which meant Akaashi had told him off for something. Probably trying to follow him to class.

It wasn’t that all of their type was clingy. Daichi wasn’t, neither was Kenma or Tanaka. It was only Bokuto and Lev and Hinata; who honestly just really liked hugs

“Enjoy your class,” Yaku sighed, arms dropping as he gave up the fight with the cat. “Can you take him with you.” Kenma leaned down and scooped him up, ignoring the furious hiss and claws lifting Yaku’s shirt.  
“Lev!” Kenma snapped, grey ears flattening, as he carried him towards the dark hallway behind the chimney. The fire thawed his fingers as he passed, ducking behind the chimney and into the long dark hall. The photos, of the scholar house through the years started with the most recent, Kenma’s almost completely black hair, before both forms had gained more distinct colour, he looked young, half hiding behind Hinata, who beamed into the camera with little mortification. 

Yachi hid on his other side, clutching of the sleeves of her jumper.

He turned a corner, the dinner room and kitchen on one side (although, rarely used) and the two small windowless classrooms on the other. He could See Akaashi ahead, leaned awkwards on the classroom door. 

“Aka-?

Akaashi hushed him, beckoning him forwards, which was… odd behaviour for Akaashi. He wasn’t an ease dropper. Nor a fan of any form of secrecy or misconduct. 

Kenma found himself pressing in close to listen. “-shima turned up in the forest yesterday evening,” That was Kuroo sensei speaking, her voice similar to her sons. “He was exhausted, and his latency, well-“ Kenma missed the next part.

“No longer Latent?” Takeda asked, “Surely, if they were after energy they’d attack out students?”

“Not if they didn’t want to be figured out.” There was quiet, someone swallowed. “Or we’re missing something. If they’re taking children with latent abilities, that suggests they are looking for research subjects.”

“Ones who can’t-“ Takeda lowers his voice, and Kenma can’t quite pick up anything beyond ‘fight’ and ‘fatal’, or perhaps he heard ‘fetal?’

“I’m worried for Tetsu,” Kuroo says a bit louder, voice breaking on her son’s name.

“Is he latent?”

Kenma meets Akaashi’s curious gaze through the dark. 

“Yes and no.” Kuroo sensei stopped, Kenma can taste her fear through the door. “He’s half. But… It's not that he’s latent, he… it’s explosive.” She hissed.

“Do you think it could be the group looking for the magic gene? It’s likely they would go after him if they knew.” Kenma held his breath.

He had heard of the group, everyone had. But they usually took children, young children. 

“Maybe, but they don’t usually take twice from the same place. Let alone this much.” 

There are papers be handed over, the rustling loud compared to hushed voices. “I’ll look into it. But we shouldn’t fill our basket with one theory, we don’t want to overlook other causes.”

“Thank you,” Kuroo-sensei breathed, “I’ll let you get on with your class.” Her footsteps come towards the door, and Akaashi and Kenma scrambled away, backing up halfway down the hall. The door opens, “Some of your students are just arrive-

“Kuroo-Sensei!” Sugawara comes running down the hall, a picture shatters, but he doesn’t care. “He’s Gone!” He yelled, breaking in front of her to fall to his knees. “Daichi’s gone!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and criticism welcome!
> 
> NEXT TIME  
> Kuroo befriends a cat and overhears something interesting in the library


	4. Calico Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma's lost a friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got work for a couple of weeks, so updates will go wonky for awhile.

Kuroo was hiding out in the garden again, the snow had given up after a heavy fall a few nights ago, leaving only a thick layer of slush in its wake. 

He followed the little paths of gravel between high hedges of silver lined leaves, past a frozen pond and it's still fountain to one of the many hidden grottoes here.

An ache, in spring, rung with brilliant reds and yellows, now only dark dripping thorns ornamental in, beyond, shrouded in the shadow of a large oak, hopefully this time, his hide out would remain secret from Daisho and Co. He ducked carefully below a loose branch and spotted Pudding, curled up on the bench no game in sight.

His cheeks looked wet, his eyes red.

"Kuroo?" Red eyes looked up at him, then frantically looked away, arms coming up to rub at his face.

Oh, ok, he was crying. 

"Ok," He stepped forward, kneeling despite the soaking slush flooding his knee. "You can talk to me? Are you ok? Are you being bullied?"

"Daisho, always." He mumbled, glaring at his lap. Kuroo leaned forward, catching his gaze before he looked away again. 

"But, that's not the issue though," Kuroo obverse, resting his hands on the bench either side. He waited, Pudding shifting in front of him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Are you going to propose?" 

Kuroo blinked blankly, before recoiled his hands. "No! I mean!" He groaned. He had been kneeling, one knee, in front of Pudding. "You're teasing me."

"Clearly." He mumbled. "I'm fine, thanks for-

"If you want me to go I will," Kuroo sat beside him. "But, I much rather hang with you?"

"One of the scholar's, he- he." His voice broke, tears running down his cheeks. "He disappeared last night." He whispered. "We're not particularly close. But- A shuddering breath, before he could continue. "But I'm really worried, and Hinata and Sugawara are terrified for him, and he's always there for all of us and-". 

He sniffled, "For the record. I'm not a cry baby."

"hey, Puddin'." He whispered, rubbing a hand up and down his arm, Kuroo didn't know what to do as he breathed, slowing and slouching, all the cry cried out of him. He turned to look at Kuroo, intense look flickering across his face.

"Maybe you should be a Hufflepuff." He muttered. "You're nice."

"I know." Kuroo smirked, "I'm super nice."

"Never mind," Pudding turned away with a low laugh, something that made Kuroo's stomach dance. "You're full of it, Draco level arrogance." He harshly rubbed the tears from his eyes before speaking, voice quiet but firm. "Thank you, I'm much better now." 

"Daisho's Draco, he has Greg and Goyles."

"Draco is an interesting character!" Pudding shot back, "He has depth, intellect, he so interesting! Daisho… is not."

"You think I have depth? Intellect?" Kuroo grinned- well leered. "You think. I. am. Interesting?"

"I think you're weird."

Kuroo belted out a hacking laughed, his usually horrible hyena like noise that left people looking horrified or scared. Pudding looked amused. "Ignore my weird laugh." He mumbled.

"Not that weird." He knocked his head against Kuroo's shoulder, "Its… interesting."

Kuroo couldn't help but squeeze him against his side, "I'm sure your friend will be ok, they'll turn up."

"You don't know that."

"No, you're right. I don't. Sorry." Kuroo cringed, he was bad at this.

"It's ok." He managed, then held out his hand, "Phone," the brick was dropped into his palm after a second of Kuroo fishing around in his coat pockets. Puddin' tapped in his number. "Can you… be careful?" He asked. "Don't go anywhere but the main school! Stay away from the forest and the greenhouses. Please."

"The greenhouse-" Kuroo nodded. Puddin' didn't want his demanding questions, he was reinsurance, and Kuroo understood. He was scared of Teru's disappearance, and Puddin' had lost a friend. He didn't want to lose another, Kuroo hoped they were friends by now. "I Will, I'll stay safe as long as you do." 

They sit, for a while, Kuroo praying Daisho or anyone else, for that matter, didn't come across them. Automatically, he brushed they collapsing snowflakes from Pudding's coat. 

"You don't understand." Puddin' grumbled. "You're a target,"

Kuroo pulled back. "What?"

"You're like Terushima, and Yukie, and-and Akaashi." He whispered. "I shouldn't be telling you, I promised Kuroo-San I wouldn't-

"My mum?" Kuroo was pulling back further, almost a foot away of cold air. "why would you promise? What's going on?"

"I can't say." He snapped, hands fisted in his lap. "I can't, but you're in trouble. You have to stay in the school, hell! Tie yourself to your bed!"

"I ain't tying myself to my bed," 

"Daichi was taken from his bed." He hissed. "You might be too." He stood and paced the small clearing, hairs rising on the back of his neck. "You have to stay safe."

"I will." Kuroo agree, dropping the subject. "You have to too."

"Ok." He voice was barely a whisper, standing Infront of him, "And you should probably know. My name isn't Pudding, It's Kenma."

Kuroo stared after pu-Kenma's receding figure, and burned. He was confused, first most. Kenma knew his mother? Kenma had talked to his mother about him? Heard something? Kenma seemed like the observational type; hell he knew he was. 

Kuroo was still burning. He was angry, angry at the secrets, angry that parents hadn't come rushing to the school, demanding to see their children, their missing children. 

Kuroo was still burning in his afternoon classes. He was embarrassed, so very flustered and horrified. He called Kenma, puddin' out loud. To his face. And while Kuroo had a bit of a history of being very awkward to people he thought were cute, this, this took the cake. 

He was still burning, anger and horror, as he slipped under the closed sign and pushed open the dark doors to the library.  
He had a couple of hours between classes ended and dinner began, he spent that curled up in the corner of the library. There was one or two other people lurking between the isles, apparently, he wasn't the only one to hang here after hours. 

He'd found, in one of the darkest, oldest isles; dust on the books thicker than his mother's chocolate icing and just as dark, several thick history books. One, hardback cracked, was the history of the school. Now, Kuroo usually hated History, but after his blunder in history class, perhaps some obscure dates for the 1700s would grant him back into good graces.

A small Mew, made him fumble with the book, dropping open onto his lap when he met huge yellow eyes watching him through the books, hidden in the isle next door.

Somehow, one of the garden cats had gotten in to the library, and was now crawling out, shouldering a flimsy piece of parchment aside. Who still had parchment in their library? "Hey cat." He mumbled.  
"What's your name?" The cat gave him a flat glare. "Right, yeah, apparently that's what you ask someone when you first meet. Not give them an embarrassing nickname." He groaned, he liked cats, but they weren't very chatty, some he suppose the feline would just be 'cat' for now. Then again, the grey cat was vastly more social and had already be dumbed 'cat' by Yaku last year. Before Yaku vanished from the school, and reappered a month later in the scholar sector. "I could call you Pudding, considering you two match. Colour wise." He muttered. The cat was definitely glaring now. His mother had a cat when he was little, vastly less glaring that this one, but less clingy and friendly than 'Cat'. It was a black cat, with crazy spiky hair, which made it look like it had three ears. 

He reached out, but it hissed. "Ok, so you're not so friendly, that or you hate being called pudding." He corrected. 

The Cat, Pudding, Kuroo decided there being less issue with called a cat pudding than a person, shuffled a little closer and instigated what Kuro could only describe as a very intense staring contest. 

Kuroo lost. 

They sat, after that, in peaceful silence, Kuroo returning to flicking through the boo-

'1763, 25 students dissapeered.' He stopped. 

'In 1763, 300 years after the school were first built, 200 years after the scholar sector were created, 25 students disspeered from their beds. Two bodies turned up in the north west cornor of the school grounds, most of the students were never seen again.'

The cat gave him a funny look, Kuroo was sure his face portrayed something, if not horror, akin to it. 

'18 of the student's were said to be latent,'

"Latent?" He looked up to the cat again. "What the hell is Latent?"

'3 of which were practised.'

"Practised?" He asked the cat again. It's yellow eyes fixated on him. Of course, It didn't answer. 

'Kuroo Kenta was the first Practiser to vanish, and the first body to turn up dead.'

"What the hell?" 

He flickered back to the front of the book. 'The index, ... Page 10: The fire, Page 14; the headmasters page 19; The Scholar Sector.' He turned to the page. An old drawing of the scholar house, said to have belonged to the first headmaster, who had a thing for Western culture. Kuroo couldn't exactly disagree, he loved old building, but the nooks and crannies of the heavy stone buildings of europe seemed so rustic. 

His reading, mostly the dates, were interrupted.

A low murmured echoed through the space, Kuroo sitting straighter and placing his open book in his lap. He was curious, Ok? 

"I'm here." That was Daisho's voice, but Kuroo had no idea who the teacher was.

"You're late," The voice was average, irritation clear but without the usual heavy undertone Kuroo was always faced with when he was late.

"My apologise." Daisho said smoothly. "I ran into some trouble. I'm afraid I have bad news."

"What is it?"

"Students have been hanging around the green houses, the hole is getting too big to cover up."

"We'll fit an new hatch." The man said. 

"That’s not all." Kuroo could hear the nervous tremor to his voice, he didn't think Daisho knew what nervousness was. He was too cocky, arrogant. Too sure of himself. "One of the students keeps asking questions. She thinks something is happening, and she's knows-" His voice went quiet, hushed even in the silence. "Take care of it!" The cat flinched, ears flattened against its head. Kuroo strained to hear it, holding his breath, staring blindly at the cat in front of him. It's own hears, flicking backwards and then towards him. Tail slithering over the floorboards. A floorboard creaked, startling him to drop the heavy cover and it fell shut with a deafening slap. His breath stuck fast in his throat, thick like fog. He tried to take a calming, breath, to slow the racing of his blood. He couldn't hear anything, but the cat clearly could, eyes wide and frightened. It stood, fur erect along its spine, looking more like a porcupine than a feline. It's ears snapped backwards, someone was in the isle next door, Kuroo could see the shadow of their feet. Kuroo stumbled to his feet, sliding the book back into place as quietly, the cat brushing past his hand in a frantic flight, pelt darting out of the isle and away.

He edged through the library, peering out towards the doors, the wide open area by the librarian's desk. Open ground, the door's were heavy as well. They slow him down. It was dark, but if he ran he could be seen. But there was nobody. 

He might get away with detention, maybe expulsion. But the way they were speaking, there was something heavy going on at the Academy, something that left families with missing children and bodies turning up in history books. 

He didn't want to join them

He stepped out, the drum in his ears burning out any warning.

At the same time, a short stout man stepped out from another isle, walking swiftly to the doors. 

That wasn't Daisho, but he couldn't make out the features so had no idea who it was.

He would make a dash for the fire exit. 

Less than five minutes later, Kuroo was dashing through slippery mud, shoving bushes out the way with the fire alarm on his heels. Daisho too, probably. But he didn't slow, not until he reached the entrance, slipping in between two boys he didn't know, wrapped in blanket and in sodden slippers. 

He hoped he didn't look too suspicious in his school shoes and uniform, the oversized hoodie helped however.

"Wakatoshi has disappeared." Kai started with the sinister news. "That’s 5 people. Within 7 and a 3/4 weeks."

Pedantic, Kuroo thought amusingly, they both were to an extent, Kuroo about his science. Kai about everything else. 

"Satori's beside himself looking, He vanished, no messages. His roommate wakes with his bed empty, all his bags, all his clothes but his Pajamas. Even his shoes were there."

"Teachers aren't saying anything, Strikes me as weird." Kuroo muttered. There was something dangerously wrong with this school. 

"Exactly," Kai said, "Ran into Yaku," Kuroo nodded, wondering what he knew. Yaku had been an open book until October, jsut passed. He'd become tired, always found deep in the librery pouring over books; Isle 10, sector 4, not far from where Kuroo had been parked that evening. "What he said struck me as ominous."

"Ominous?"

"Whatever the teachers think, they're taking action to protect the scholar's more than us." He said, stifling a yawn. "They've been warning not to go near the woods, use the sports pavilion or green houses."

"Why would they warn them?" Kuroo asked, his mind went to the book; Latent, Practised.

"I don't know." Kai admitted. "Unless an angered parent didn't like that their kid couldn't get into the scholar program?"

"What and threatened them? That wouldn't make sense since normies are vanishing." 

"A pre-cursor?" Kai Offered. "Apparently some of the parents on the board are a little… aggressive."

"You're mum told you that?"

"Yeah." Kuroo liked Kai's mum, when she'd visited the school. She was interesting, insanely intelligent and spoke her mind like a champ. "I suppose we just follow what the scholar kids are doing," Kai offered, "To minimise chance of well whatever this is. Then again, you know what some people think the scholar system really is?"

"I suppose. And no, you should know that you are my only source of info."

"People think it's either a special school; for you know, learning disabilities and worse. Others think it's for Kids of presidents and military officers."

"Then you'd be in there."

"Exactly." He said. "Anyway, I'm off to bed." He said, "Can't believe somebody set of the fire alarm earlier, we were out there for an hour."

"Yeah, Bloody cold. See you."

Kuroo sighed and lay back on his bed, reaching for his stack of entertainment; car magazines and fantasy books. 

There was a tap at his door.

With a sigh, he dropped the book, "Come in!" Nobody replied

"Why so many visitors." He mumbled, sliding off his bed, "Come in!" He added louder. Another tap, very quiet. "I said, Come in!"

Nothing.

He stood up, grumbling and swung open the door.

Nothing.

"Stupid prank." 

There was more tapping behind him.

The window, dark behind him.

Another tap.

He gulped, throat turning dry. Logically, the worse it could be was the wind, maybe a bird. He was 5 stories up with only the other boys and the creepy gargoyles for company. 

Another soft tap. 

Kuroo's stomach filled with ice. He should stop watching horror films late at night. His mother's stories of Gashadokuro and Hell hounds filled his mind. At least he wasn't afraid of those, as creepy as they were, they were folk tales, stories for children. Clowns however, he really hated clowns. And they were real. Now that he was thinking of Clowns it was all he could picture. A clown, sent to steal and kill all the stories due to some parent's feud with the school. He knew it was unlikely, if not, ridiculous. But the thought was there now. 

He ripped open the floral curtains.

A branch was stuck in the latch.


	5. Green House

Nights passed. Kuroo didn't sleep. He was going out. 

Of course, this outing was not his first call of business. 

First, his simply rolled grumpily around in his sheets, then, he got, made tea. Hojicha for the nutty flavour. A personal favourite. It was warming in a way that would hopefully settle his mind and help him sleep.

His mother had always called him a nosy git, but slipping out of the sweaty sheets at 3am, to investigate the one place everyone; well, Kenma, was asking him to stay away from the green house.

He groaned and turned over, burying his head between the pillows. 

Several hours later, he was still obsessing over the green house. Having freed himself from the bed, and perched, in the darkness of his room, on the window ledge. 

He looked out to the old manor, the dark forest and shadowy gardens, moon glinted like metal off the ponds. It was stunning. It reminded him of the Adam's family mansion, or Emma Watson and the Beast, spinning in a ghostly waltz, reflected in the inky ponds. He could almost picture a waltz gliding through the gardens. Emma Watson and the Beast, but skeletal and ghostly. 

He slid down, and closed the window or the freeze, opting for a thick puffer ajcket in a useful dark green, the fluff lining it was cuddly and soft. An added bonus. Furthermore, he kept his pins in there. Toeing on his hsoes, the proceeding to drop his mug off in the kitchenette sink, He crept down the hall.

He ducked down the main stair case, hand on the wall for guidance, just as the boys' bathroom opened. Out of sight, he walked blindly above him on the landing, and vanished with a creak into his room.

Kuroo continued. The thin moonlight offered little in terms of sight, so he stepped through the gloom carefully, twitching at the slightest of noise. But he'd done this before, countless times, out of his bedroom window in deepest Tokyo aged 14, out of the country cottage in Hokaido aged 10 to 13, as young as 7 in their first home. 

He'd never wondered much about their sudden moves, and flight's across country, for a few years they'd lived with family in London, but Kuroo had been too young to remember, and too young to pick up more than a few words of English. Most of them, about engineering.

The third floor, the classrooms and music rooms, and at the end; a small forgotten door. Locked of course. But not to Kuroo. He crouched down, feeling for the key hole, fingers ghosting over rusted metal, or Oxidised, it was most likely copper or bronze after all. There it was, chipped at the edges.

He scooped the pins from his pocket. One jabbed him under the nail, "Fuckity shit bucket." He hissed, quickly checking down the hall for any sign of life.

None.

His fiddled with two clips, turning them just so; there. It was an old lock, archaic even. And stiff. The pin slipping uselessly off the nub inside several times, knucled white he forced It out the way, and, using his wrist, pushed the other pin in and-  
A click, the door swinging open, heavy on its hinges. The dark hole, twisting stairs descending revealed itself, with it, a gust of damp air and the smell of mould.

He zipped up his coat, and buried his chin into the fluff, stepping inside and leaning the door shut behind him. It was significantly harder to unlock it this side than the other. 

There were no windows, but his phone did have a torch, shoddy as it was. A flickering thing, slowly dying as his battery was, despite being on charge for over 5 hours.

He held tight to the blackened banister, metal, looking like it had once been engulfed in scolding heat. There had been a fire, maybe History was more interesting than Kuroo gave it credit. 

He skipped steps 3 and 10, knowing both creaked loud enough to shatter his already frantic heart. Having to hold tight, as he managed to stretch down to the next step, there was nothing below him but the darkness, the gaps between the stairs wide enough that at times, he had to shift onto his ass and go down like a child.   
His toes felt numb by the time he reached the old basement, barely touched in years; clogged with cobwebs, and mould, Kuroo was glad the stairs fell right next to the little hatch door, leading outside. 

The air was cold, but less stale out here. Cold but fresh and it blew the cobwebs from his mind.

He was at the side of the school here, the door tucked in a corner, where the wing grew from the main building. It was lighter outside, campared to the basement, the silver moon highlighted sharp grassblades even as he trampled them underfoot. Soon enough, he was abondonning the trimmed lawn for frolicking heather and taller grass than brushed his knees. In the shadow of these blade, where the moon could not see, animals had dug under the earth, He foot court and he crashed knees fist into the ground. His phone scuttling away from him. The light down, hidden.

He crouched, hands scouring through the wet grass, he pressed down to lean forward, something wet and soft splayed outwards under his hand and recoiled. A slug, fat and juicy, but luckily not crushed across his palm. 

He wipes his hand on his pajama’s. Cautious this time, Kuroo searched for his phone, picking a smooth stone first before his hand clutches as plastic, and switches the torch off to avoid detection. 

He straightens slowly, looking back to the school. A light flickers on in the middle window, and for a second, Kuroo fears he was heard - how, his logic springs forwards quickly, but is soon replaced. He knows the school is weird, the rules too strict, the secrecy of the scholars. Who's to say they don't have cameras or trip wires or bugs around the school. It would explain the mysterious circumstances he was court in last time. He doesn't quite understand how he was found - to this day. 

He bends low, watching the school with its dark beauty. The light from the window, lighting the leering face of a huge gargoyle; he'd had nightmares about them before, crawling down to his dorm window, tapping on the glass. May they had cameras, alerts for the teachers. The person stretching, hopefully not facing towards the window, before moving away.

Eventually the person get backs into bed, the light flicks off, the gargoyle vanishes and Kuroo can move on. 

The stream is coming up, trickling, ridged with ice, he can hear it; only just. 

Then , the grass is dropping away and Kuroo is almost falling for the second time in 10 minutes. He grips the grassm tearing some out and glares at the water, its ink-like and dark at night, theice looks like glass. 

He hops over, with ease, only to stumble back and soak him left leg to the shin.

That bloody cat. He glared down at the two yellow eyes. "What do you want?" He growled, dragging himself up the bank and stomping across the field. He spots the cat trotting at his heels, like a well-trained dog. 

There's a faint green glow in by the trees, and to his surprise, not one but two lights are on in the green house. 

But other than that, nothing strange is amiss. He almost suspected 10s of me in hazmat suits, burying the missing bodies, or perhaps human trafficking; selling them to research centres. 

But there was nothing, and perhaps he really should stop reading ghost stories before bed, or listening to stupid rumours. It's bizarre, what's happening. Not normal. But, there's probably an odd reason behind it; odd, not malicious, not horrific, not story worthy; just a bit odd. Odd like having pineapple of pizza; although, Yaku would strongly disagree with that. 

He went closer, stepping over the low fence, that separated the long grass from the shaved fridges of the gardens. Greens sprouted up in neat rows, one un-lodged by his clumsy footing.   
He followed, a path of shaved grass, lit by the greenhouse glow. The straight paths separated the cabbages from the turnips and turnips from the carrots.  
He passed the rosemary, during the summer days, it was alive with bees and flies and butterflies. Now, it was an overgrown shadowy mass of nimble fingers.   
He stood between the green houses, they stood silence, the trees more foreboding than the well sheltered plants. His mother’s warning rang in his mind, yet nothing here gave rise to suspicion. 

Nothing. It was normal. 

The rosemary clawed at the wind, cutting through his jacket – shadows flickered across the ground as the trees creaked, Kuroo was ducking in between the green houses before he’d even recognised the clattering noise that had set his heart racing. His knee sunk into the mud build up between the two glass walls, grass sprouting tickling his nose.   
He peered into the first lit green house, rubbing at grimy glass with the rough edge of his sleeve, cheek pressed against the cold. Bays of herbs in their little pots, regimented and strict. Just like the school. He opened the door carefully, the creak absorbed into the slowly rising wind. And stepped inside, the herbs glistened like green jewels under the light, several in drying wracks, probably to be used in the Sunday roast.   
Normal.  
He turned around, the door swinging in the wind. He left, trying the next green house, locked, but with a few jabs of his pins he could unlock it. The chain rattled the floor, and he quickly checked over his shoulder. Only the cat, glaring, wide eyed at him. Of course, the bloody school cat wouldn't like him breaking and entering.   
Whatever, it could stay if it wanted. Curiosity didn't kill the human after all.   
It was darker, no light and Kuroo didn't want to bring attention to himself by turning it on. It was only the flowers, well, devoid of such right now. But by summer, it will be bursting with colour.  
He threads the chain back in, the wind is clattering the glass panes, and the chain rattles are deafened.   
Carefully, he swivelled to the next lit green house. Peering between two shelves, something shifted. A shadow falling over him, the trees, he told himself. Of course, it was the trees, this was not Harry Potter or IT or the Haunting. Not a murder mystery by Agatha or the newest sighting of Big foot. Just school, and a student out past curfew… again.  
The shadow recedes and he steps inside, the light flickers, on, off, on, off.  
There's nothing here, rigid shelfs of regiments plants. On. Off. Even with the florescent flickers, nothing feels out of place. On. It feels decayed, rustic, rotten. Off. It feels normal, but when he breaths in rich air, the oxygen floods him. Right, breathings important and he'd forgotten. His heart, thundering firmly in his chest.   
He crouched, the pots are clustered messily under the shelves in one corner, cracked in corners or missing chunks of pottery leaving tightly packed soil, held together but spindly twisted roots.   
There's a chunk of clay, splattered against the tiled floor; like an art student has dropped their latest sculpture, in fact, a fold, smoothed, looks almost like lips. He pokes it.  
He shifts a pot, the scraping and wind; he doesn't hear the door. But turns and jerks, pressing his palm through the clay - gross.  
"You bloody cat!" He snaps, loud, the voice shattering the thick atmosphere around them. The sigh explodes from his body, and he deflates, sinking to crouch on the floor with his head between his knees. What am I doing? Running around the gardens at night, breaking and entering; you'd think I was a first year." The glass rattled in the wind, and looked down at the cat, it's hair was fluffed up against the chill. It was cute, Kuroo had to admit, even if it was hella annoying.   
He eventually stood and looked down at the cat. "Come on then, I'm going back." He then left the greenhouse and swung the door shut, not caring that the greenhouse rattled behind him, of the creaking of pots on rickety shelves, it bounced and swung in the wind.   
He slammed it shut, hands pressed against the glass faced with his murky reflection. It smiled at him.  
He wasn't smiling.   
He fell backwards, head knocking onto the ground, staring up at the shadow beyond the glass, towering over him, looking down, the whites clear.   
He tipped his head to the side, like a dog. Then still looking, walked towards the door edging sideways –  
He should be yelling. Screaming at a student for being out or at least asking, checking if he was a student, or teacher? Should be walking out normal, not sideways, not staring at him like-like-  
The door creaked open, a gasp in the night. The cat, hissed in his ear, and when he didn’t move, the door fully open, claws dug across his cheek.  
“OW!” He spat, then, as if dunked in a cold bath, fear washed over him and he was crawling scrambling over mud and grass towards the line of grey trees, fumbling over the low fence, foot vanishing down the short slope the other side. With a yelp, he slid down, jarring a foot on the first tree. Looking up to the keeper behind, the moon at his back. Hunched back shifting like waves.

He was grabbing a branch and hauling himself along, blind, running through thick branches, whipping his skin with brambles.

A meow, almost brought a scream to his lips, barely seeing the yellow eyes in the dark. 

A snapping branch somewhere in the forest made him hurry forwards, almost knocking his head into the rough bark of a tree. He stopped, listening, only hearing his own heavy breathing.

The soft meow, from below had him bending, hold out a hand hoping the cat might come closer.  
Soft fur glided under his palm.

“You’re a very odd cat.” He breathed. “Did you come to save me? Can’t have any more detentions.” Anymore and it wouldn’t matter his mother worked here, he’d be on the train out before he could even say goodbye. 

And while he would love to go to a normal school, his mother would be heart broken, lost on her own. And, it would ruin his already precarious school record. 

The cat brushed through his legs once then trotted away, Kuroo almost falling over as he followed. The cat seemed to be trotted alongside the school grounds, weaving through the trees, and making small noises that Kuroo could just hear above the firm wind. 

Eventually, the cat crept out from the trees, ears lowering and pricking up constantly. Kuroo blinked, the gardens, neat hedge rows, rose bushes and bench and all just above a small slope. He could reach the school here, hopefully without the grounds keeper seeing.

The cat only took him halfway, peeling off down another little gravel path, winding through the trees and wilder gardens while Kuroo crouched behind neat hedges, darting clumsily between until he reached the hatch doors to his secret stair well. His heart did not slow until he reached his room, shucking off mudding shoes, coat and Pajamas, before crawling into his bed only in his boxers. He did not sleep, waiting until 6am when the hot water came on to drag his trainers to the showers. It was a Saturday, so there was no sound of other students until 9am, and by then, Kuroo had crawled back into bed. He would miss breakfast today, surviving on the small array of snacks in his desk draw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Judging by the response to this :(
> 
> and reading back on my own writing, I am very very out of practise, and very tempted to rewrite this. 
> 
> May finish this version and then rewrite (either edit this version/post a new.)
> 
> I donno. :/
> 
> Anyway, Constructive criticism definitely needed! So please, tell me how to improve.


	6. Morning Walk

Kenma didn’t feel guilty. He didn’t. It had been a week since Kenma and Kuroo’s little adventure to the greenhouse. And Kenma, Kenma had been livid.  
He’d ignored him on Monday, and Tuesday, Wednesday and finally on Thursday tracked him down in the rose gardens, where he was moping. 

He spotted Kuroo, curled up on a wet and soggy looking bench, the snow melt was making the usually dreary weather much worse. 

“You!” He hissed, storming towards the taller boy, “You fucking moron!” Kenma could remember how Kuroo’s eyes had widened. Kenma was soft spoken, quiet, secretive, but right now he felt feral. He boiling anger had finally burst to the surface of his skin. “You snuck out! You went to the green house,” Kuroo stood up at this point, nervous, hands held out in front of him, calming. Kenma didn’t need calm. He smacked him, not too hard, in the chest. “Asshole!” Kenma gripped his shirt. He wanted to punch and kiss him equally, how cliché.

“I’m sorry!” Kuroo squealed, rearing back as if Kenma planning to throw boiling oil on him. 

“You could have died!” Kenma wouldn’t cry, he wouldn’t. “Dick. Poo head. Bloody wanker. Twat!” 

“I get it!” Kuroo said, sounded angry. “I was curious and stupid. Can you not yell so loudly? If my mother found out, she’d have my head.”

“She already knows!” Kenma said, crossing his arms and stepping back. “She’s annoyed because she hasn’t been able to lecture you or something.”

Kuroo blinked. “How the hell do you know?”

“I just do! And if it weren’t for me, you’d be up shite alley right now!”

Kuroo was staring at him funny now, frowning, sticking his hands in his pockets. “What does that mean?”

Kenma clamped up, cursing himself. Of all the stupid things to say. “Nothing.” He'd said that too quickly.

Kuroo sank back down onto his ass, resting his hands between his knees. “Kenma, it doesn’t sound like nothing.” He leaned back, observing Kenma, watching him closely. 

"It is, nothing you need to worry about." Kenma watched the irritation crawl over his face. "Ok, that’s a lie. But I can't tell you."

"Can't or won't?"

Kenma raised an eyebrow, "Does it matter? You're not getting an answer."

"It matters."

"It's both." 

The waited in silence, neither brave enough to break it. Kenma checked his watch. He'd left his turnips alone, he was just getting in to a selling spree.

"Fine," Kuroo snapped, quite suddenly. And Kenma felt a chill. He didn't like people being made at him. "you're going to keep secrets from me. Like mum always does." He sounded like he was on the brink of tears. The guilt clogged his throat.

"Sorry," He croaked but didn't deny it. 

Kenma, might have blown it in all honesty. Kuroo knew the school was a bit iffy, you had to be blind not too. But such good grades in the general student population. But Kuroo before had thought Kenma was clear of suspicion, not he feared he’d become enemy number 1. Kuroo didn’t like not knowing things, he definitely didn’t like people hiding things from him. 

And he hadn't spoken to Kenma since. And it didn't seem like he was going to. 

In the early morning, entering the school grounds felt like stepping out into fantasia or in winter; Narnia. A bizarre mismatch of colours, the blue bells glowed like Christmas lights, and snow drops gleamed. To Kenma, like this, the bushes towered above him, black-green with glinting silver edged leaves. Funny to think they were usually only a foot above his head. 

He left the rose gardens behind, the ocean of tall grass rippling out away from him. Ringed by the tall sycamores of the forest. The sky above was tinged with pink and grey, a rainy day probably, chasing away the last of the slush, but colder than yesterday. 

He shouldn't be out here, not after last week. 

After he'd taken Kuroo away from that thing, Takeda had been waiting on an armchair, moved to face the door, and wait for him. 

"Nice of your to come home." Takeda was terrifying some days, voice quiet and calm, but the snap of his heavy book made Kenma's fur rise. "Since we have done this before shall we assume the same as usual?" Right, Kenma had snuck out several times last year, and been court for all. "You know you were out past curfew, you know why that dangerous particularly now and you have no reason you want to share why you thought it was a good idea."

He stood, holding his book at his side and walked - too calmly - towards his office. "Come on. I expect to be able to talk to you Kenma, so do us both a favour and shift back."

But Kenma had questions as well. And he wanted answers. That – thing, that thing in the greenhouse wasn’t natural. The disappearing students, the lies the teachers told, the restricting rules.

He was eager to know what was truly going on. And to find out exactly, Kenma would have to be observation. He was good at that; he had a clear eye for detail and behaviours. Takeda opened the heavy door to his office, it was long and thin, allowing it to reach the outside wall, letting in a sliver of moonlight.  
All the rooms here was oddly shaped. The hallways wriggling between them, beams sometimes too low. As if they’d fallen and then caught by stonework. 

Takeda perched behind his desk, and Kenma took his seat on one of the chairs. Bare feet grazing the cool wooden floor.  
“Why were you out after hours again?”

Kenma pout, and resolutely, stared at the wall. Several pictures sat for him to gaze on. Their yearly house picture caught his eye. The last one, his hair fluffy and mostly black. He’d still been a kitten then, only having just begun to shift.

“Hinata could smell hi-a student. Near… near the green house.”

Kenma could hear the breath sucked between the teacher’s teeth. “Did he go near it? Did you?”

“Yes. I followed him.” Kenma took a shuddery breath, twitching hands now wringing his sleeves. “There was a thing. It smelled of rot and iron.”

Takeda stood, and then reached to one of the high shelves, hauling down a huge book, leather bound and caked in dust. 

“Described it.” He was flicking through the index, finger rubbing over pages. 

“Thin, tall, hunched over, no pupils.” 

“no-

Takeda’s racing through the book now, slamming it open on a page.

“Right.” Takeda said, Book marking the page and slamming it shut. “Now back to you.”

“What was it, last night?” Kenma says, pointing at the book.

“I don’t know. But you’ll be told when we figure it out.” Takeda said. “Now, I believe you’ve already lost your switch to Ukai at night, so I think we’ll take it away completely. Furthermore, you will be having detention with me every evening next week. I’m sorry Kenma, but I can’t allow you to keep sneaking out.”

“I understand.” He managed to mumble. 

“Good,” Takeda says, “It’s almost dawn, go to sleep.”

After Takeda had sent him to bed, he'd been ambushed by Hinata and Bokuto. They questioned him like Takeda had, wondering more about Kuroo than he had. 

Hopefully, Takeda wouldn't notice this time. Already lost most of his game consoles as punishment. 

Only now, was he hoping over the pale mini picket fence that ringed the green houses and vegetable patches. It had seemed so sharp and shadowy that night, icicles sprouting in defence, now it could feature in a miniature family home toy house.

Kenma wasn’t much for gardening, but many in the scholar house had, naturally, taken to it. Akaashi too, before Bokuto had decided that he was it for him and he’d had to switch his study focus pretty fast.

Sugawara liked gardening but enjoyed the more domestic side of it than the academic. He had an entered patch outside their house, his potatoes were coming along nicely until some boars from the forest had rooted them up, at least, his carrots had survived the attack.  
There was nobody around, the quiet morning was pleasant, the birds attracted him, but he was here on a mission. Sort of.

Akaashi wanted him to look for disturbed earth, footprints if possible.  
He trotted along the path; the glass green house doors were closed. None of the iron scent was here this time, nothing sitting heavy on his tongue or invading his nose. 

He tensed at the bird song, ears flicking. But he was on a mission, no time to play cat.

He trotted along the path; the glass green house doors were closed. None of the iron scent was here this time, nothing sitting heavy on his tongue or invading his nose. 

He shoved against the dew cold door with his nose before looking around, There was nobody here,  
tentatively he changed. Standing onto two feet and pushing. 

Two forms were so very handy, opposable thumbs for games, small body for sneaking around. Afterall people would think a cat wondering around at 7am strange. A student? On a Monday? A little bit.

Door swung shut behind him, leaving only the gentle tickling of a drip. 

The plants sat on broken wooden slats at hip height. It looked much older than he thought they would, aged in under a fortnight. A few metal baskets hung from above, 2 of which were rusted. Of course, this was the least used greenhouse, grey daylight cut from the green in a ragged hole in the ceiling, a pool of light on the stone floor, so maybe the damage was expected.

Kenma was glad he finally had perfected retaining his shoes with his shift. The stone would be freezing so early, the dried dirt uncomfortable at best. 

He kicks a clump of mud, watch it roll and crack against a clay pot, this one mostly whole, but there were some scattered bits around it, the one standing behind it had an entire side missing, earth tangled with roots held it in its perfect curve.  
He rubbed the dust off one the pots, its dull orange rustic in a way that reminded him of home, his tiny traditional house in the country.

Another pot, had several stripes of missing dust, as if they'd been moved in a rush. Two of which were empty and easy to move. He carefully held them where no more dust could give his investigation away.

He lifted them away, another chip falling from the second. The sound made him flinch and check behind him. He couldn’t see anything dangerous. 

He rolled a heavier one out the way, pulling a stiff vine out the way and-

A trap door. 

This in itself wasn't so shocking. The school had history piled on history. His kind had hidden here while a war raged above, while they're families were slaughtered. The school was riddled with locked doors and sealed rooms, paths through the wood enshrouded with brambles and stairs leading straight into the ceiling, bright pink builders' foam blocked even the smallest of cracks.

Kenma was nosy, he found these things, keen eyes and a keen mind, a tap on one wall was solid, a metre down, hollow, but nothing accessible behind. A straight crack in a wall? Sealed door. Blackened wood? The fire. Kenma noticed these things, and he noticed the smoother wood in the centre of the door. He pressed it. A small handle sprung up, it's shape left a deep indent in the wood. 

He has to move another heavy pot to open the trap door. Then kneeled on the cool floor, something wet - probably mud - sunk into his jeans at the knee. The wood was sharp, pressing against his palm as he yanked upwards. The wood creaking loudly in the morning quiet. He paused to listen, staring down in the dark gaping mud. Earth walls were strangled by roots and earth worms fleeing the light. The wooden ladder looked old and unused. But he could see the floor, so it was possible whoever or whatever could simply jump down.

He leaned down, kneeling on the rough stone, hand holding him up while he leaned over and ducked into the hole. 

Two footprints indented into the mud. The ridges indicated some sort of trainer. They look larger than Kenma’s feet, but smaller than Bokuto or Daichi. More similar to Akaashi or Sugawara’s size. 

He couldn’t see far down the tunnel. It looked like whoever had been down there had landed on two feet, then crawled.

There was something blue, round and half buried in the soil. He shifted, leaning further in, straining. Near it, a chain; so a necklace. 

A snap of a twig outside, and Kenma was shifting, leaping around the trap door, scrambling under shelves. The trap door slammed shut, loud, his ears rang with the sound. He pressed himself away, the door cracking open, trying to force his way between a wide pot and the glass wall, but the weeds here tangled his paws.

Somebody was inside. 

They were standing, looking down at the mess of pots he’d made, the revealed trapdoor;  
One pot, cracked at the base, one he’d moved; the first he’d move, had a small black symbol on it. He could only see it from down here. An alert.

“Himura-Sensei?” Someone was lifting open the trap door, they bent low enough, black hair drooping in front of their face. The dark eyes flicked upwards, catching the yellow of the cat’s.

Kenma was face to face with Daisho;

Of course.

He snaked a hand under the bench and grabbed him, dragging him out screeching and hissing. He would shift, become physically harder to mov- he was dropped into a bag, rough fabric enclosing around him. 

Dust fell into his eyes and nose. His fur felt stuck to him, like he could claw it off if he tried. He couldn’t shift. More dust fell onto him; he flicked a tongue out tasty salt and hissed. Daisho was prepared, he'd somehow known it wasn't this 'Himura-Sensei.' The bag joustled around him, the crack of the green house door startled him. 

He was probably about to find out where all the missing students had gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An attempt at grammar!
> 
> Thank you the feedback btw! And I'm happy for more! Is there anything people want to see from this story? Any scenes in mind? 
> 
> Next time;
> 
> Kuroo just wanted to take a leasurely swim. He didn't ask for all this drama!


	7. Drenched Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo steps closer to Kenma's secret.

Kuroo surfaced from his 15th length of the pool, a modern addition to the patchwork school. And by modern, it was a plastic and concrete cube.

It was stuck on the end of a much nicer cabin-esc sports building, his large glass windows and backing onto the tennis courts.

Near the back of the school, separate from the beautiful old building, surrounded by clean grass and perfect tennis pitches. 

The sports hall itself was ok, armed with two boys and two girls changing rooms, showers in each, a large sports hall, big windows and quash courts on the second floor.

It was nice, and on a week day, pretty much empty. Kuroo’s hide away during the colder months, it was a bit grimy, and never had sufficient heating, but nobody ever really came here. Therefore; it was perfect.

But for once, Kuroo wasn't hiding from Daisho here. He was hiding from his mother. He was generally concerned about how much time it would take her to figure out who had caused such chaos last week. If he was being honest; she'd probably already figured it out. 

This morning, when people arrived for breakfast, they were not allowed back out, forced to wait for what felt like hours, until the entire student body was crammed into the single room. 

Then the Vice Principal had stood up, eye twitching when whispers still echoed around the room. "Last night, the gardener came across a student…" Kuroo shivered now, remembering how the light headed sensation had flooded him, body so hot and cold at the same time, he was sure someone would read it on his face. "They were out of bed, after lights out," He said, the whispers finally falling flat. "Whoever you are, you will step forward. And you will be given detention, should you not step forward, once discovered you will be expelled, regardless of grades or parental influence. Furthermore, whoever it was less the cleaners a mess of mud in the showers, they will not be tidying it up, the boys in the top corridor will just have to make do." He waved his hand. "Get out, we're done here."

The showers were more of an issue, it narrowed down the search. 

The staff knew or at least assumed – rightly so – that the escapee that night was a third-year boy.

He pushed off the side, dipping down so the cold water rushed through his hair, taking the thoughts away with it. 

His mother stayed with him however, if he were expelled it would be her who suffered more. He just hoped that for once she could not know him so well and stay happily ignorant. Ignorant was not a word associated with the Kuroo family. Often, his mother referred to them all as the nosy bastards, which was for Kuroo; Very accurate. She would probably turn up here soon enough, was probably scourging the school for him right now. He’d be lucky to keep his head when she found him. He couldn't stay here for too much longer, she'd check here after all other options were exhausted. 

He’d been hiding out here for over2 hours, since 7am. First, sitting in the changing rooms, reading about DNA until other students began to come to use the quash courts. Then he moved, hoping, nobody would want to use the pool; and so far, he had been right. 

The outer door clanged, and he groaned. He had hoped he’d at least be able to do a few more laps, but if another student was changing, he rather disappear into the showers before they got here. Better to know an anomalous student was out here than to know the school's black sheep was.

He swam to the side, gripping the side and pulled himself up, hopping onto the side. He peeked down at his body, all this hiding away on weekends was starting to pay off. 2 years ago, he’d hit a growth spurt, become lanky and tall. A blow-up wriggle man outside a car sale. He’d filled out, thankfully, he was pretty pleased.

Kuroo found the changing room empty and hopped into a scalding shower. Showers were the perfect place to think, and he’d been spending longer in them each day. There was something ominous about this school. It was a level of weird he wasn't quite ready for when he enrolled – when his mother made him enrol.  
He heard the changing door bang, closer this time, followed by a curse.

He recognised that voice. 

Kuroo changed quickly, not wanted to run into the other student. Changing, still damp, into his jeans and hoody.   
He was grabbing his bag, slinging it over his back when he heard a yowl from the pool and a loud curse.

He dropped his bag, and carefully opened the door to the pool. He could hear the commotion, to the left, and peered out, carefully keeping his body tucked behind the wall. 

Daisho was standing, clutching something to his chest. A bag. 

It wriggled and he held it aloft, frantic noises escaping it.

It stopped moving, a pitiful ‘mew’ coming from it. One Kuroo actually recognised.

“Fucking cat,” Daisho snarled at it. “Meddlesome little-

“Daisho!” Kuroo was stepping out before he knew he had made the decision. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t. It’s just a cat.”

Daisho, mouth agape, bag aloft, stared back. “Just a cat?” He gawked, then laughed, a cold if not unhinged laugh. “This little shite has given me more problems than you know!” 

He shook the bag roughly to emphasise his point. “I’m not going to drown the flee-bag. Just tease it.” He smirked, then plunged the bag into the water, bubbles bursting to the surface.

“Daisho!” Kuroo stumbled forward, trying to grab onto Daisho, but the slippery bastard, held him back. Lifting the bag, heavy and dark with moisture from the pool. “You’ll kill it!” Kuroo struggled, grabbing at Daisho’s arm, shoving at his face. “The bag! The-the water.” He didn't know what to do, if he tried to fight Daisho for it he might drop the bag or worse, fall in with it. "The fabric's soaked, it can't breathe!"

Daisho shoved back, hitting his jaw, and pressed the bag under the surface. A few bubbles rose, a few feeble kicks to the bag.

Kuroo heart stopped, the last bubble popping on the surface.

Kuroo didn't know what to do, Daisho finally lifted the bag free, swinging it slightly, he mouth curled in a vicious grin, his eyes alight and Kuroo felt the bile crawling up his throat. This wasn't Daisho. Something had happened over summer. Something had changed him.

"Daisho please!" 

He uncurled a finger around the bag, then another.

"Come on man," Kuroo hissed, "It's just a cat."

Another finger uncurled. "You don’t know." He said, generally sounding surprised. "I was sure you were one of them."

"Just let it go!"

Only one finger and his thumb remained around the bag. "Just a cat? Just a cat?" He laughed, loud and shattering in the quiet of the pool. "Poor silly silly Kuroo. Mummy's been lying to you!" He let go. 

Kuroo scrambled forward, watching the bag fall with a sharp clap against the water, and crashed into the frigid water, fully clothes.

He fumbled for the bag, foot brushing it and he dove, blinking through the stinging chlorine and turquoise blur, grabbing for the smudge of brown below him. 

It was a tonne of bricks, he had to kick hard and get under it to get it up on to the side, dragging himself half up beside it and wrenching it.

"fuck, fuck, fuck." He pulled the bag away from the sodden yellow and black bundle. "Daisho, You little shit," He looked up, a snarl etched on his features.

Daisho was gone.

He pulled himself, clothes sucking into the wall, and collapsed on the side like a dropped wet rag. He had a dry t-shirt in his bag, he'd get the cat warm, take him to his room or something-

"Tetsu?" He looked up to see his mother peeking into the door. 

"Ma! Ma, th-the cat." He swayed to his feet and tucked the shaking thing against his wet chest. 

It was ten minutes of frantic movement; racing across the field towards the school gates and his mother's cottage, she was talk quietly to the cat, reassuring it despite the fact that it would not understand her.

“Ok, We’re going to take you home and warm you up ok? Ok sweetheart?”

“He's yours?” Kuroo panted, as they slowed outside her house, her hands struggling with the keys. 

“No,” His mother said, “What happened.”

“He was being dunked in the pool.” Kuroo said, “Daisho.”  
If her glare was thunderous before, it was downright evil now. “I’ll see it that boy expelled!” 

“Kitchen,” His mother flapped him off, one arm remaining tucked around the soaking cat. “I’ll grab you some clothes.” She said, taking the cat upstairs. “I have some of your old stuff around.” 

Kuroo stripped off his sopping hoody and swung it into his mother’s laundry room. It’s wet smack followed him back into the kitchen, his socks slapping against tile.   
It took a while for his mother to come back, chucking him clothes, a bit small but they would do.

“Where’s the cat?”

“Asleep, dry upstairs.” She waved him off. “Go change, the cat’s fine. Your room’s being used!” She yelled after him. “Change in the bathroom.”

He nicks her shower upstairs, the water is obscenely hot, until he steps out. Skin chilling in the steam of the bathroom. He doesn’t understand why his room is ‘in use.’ Unless she’s given the cat his old bed. Which seems excessive. Surely, she’d put the cat on the old cat bed in her own room.

When he peers into his room, the small bed pressed against one wall, leaving only a slither of floor, half taken up by a wardrobe. It was fine, he’d only used it for a year in middle school, when his mother started working at the school before he’d entered the program at the academy.  
Instead of the cat, in his bed, was Kenma. Curled on his side, damp hair resting on the pillow. He was clearly asleep, clearly exhausted.

“Ma!” He runs down the stairs, back to her kitchen. “Why’s Kenma in my room?”

“I told you it was in use!” She muttered. “He’s sick, staying with me until he feels better.” She points at a chair, “Sit. Now we talk.” 

He sat with a thump in the chair opposite her, hanging his head. "Before you lecture me…" He started, "And I 100% deserve it! Can I ask you something?"

She cocked her head to the side.

"Ma," he smiles, scratching his head. "Is- you're going to think I'm insane. But Ke-Kenma - is Kenma a cat? Or something?" He doesn't look at her, just stairs at the table. 

"Something?" She smiling, god she's laughing at him.

"Like, a bakaneko?"

She does laugh then, loud and abrasive in his face. Thanks mum, he thinks.

"Shut up! Is he or not, I know he's not but just tell me?"

She sobered, smiling crudely across at him, before pushing tea towards him. He cups it with both hands. "It's probably best if you ask Kenma. He would know. I'll let you go see if he's awake."

She bustled around, and gets some soup together, pushing it towards him. "Make sure he eats it all, even if he's too tired to move."

"Ma?"

"I mean feed him," She grunted, rolling her eyes. "Oblivious spawn of mine."

"Thanks, wait no!" He clutches the soup against him, like a child and their blankie. "What are you implying."

"Please." She says, a posh knowing accent put on. "I know your type. Kenma ticks all the criteria."

"oh Really." Kuroo managed to put even more sass in conversation than his mother, and she'd been practising for at least twice as long. "And what would they be?"

"Most important?" She smiled, smirked more like. Ugh, he hated how similar they were sometimes. "Smart enough to give you a run for your money. And shorter than you."

"They don't have to be..."

"You childhood diary had doodles of your future wedding and every time they were shorter than you." She explain, waving it off as if reading his diary wasn't creepy or weird. She even started whipping down the kitchen sides! "You even labelled them 'Tetsurou' and 'shorty'." 

"You read my diary?!" Kuroo yelled, throwing his arms into the air. "How- how dare you, that was-

"I didn't mean too!" She yelled back, "You should know me better than that. You left it open on your desk when you were little." 

"Just close your eyes!" 

"I'm too nosy." She huffed, "Anyway. You had your question. Now, I get to lecture you."

He shrunk into his shoulder, swallowing heavily. "kay."

Not once did she call him Spawn or brat. No terms of endearment. Only his full name, yelled at him. Not when he had “snuck out at night, gone to the exact place she told him not to, put other students in danger” something he didn’t quite understand, “You ignored my warning! You disobeyed school rules! What if you had been caught? You could have been suspended – expelled!”

She sat back, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Tetsurou, you could have died!” She finished, rubbing her palm against her cheek, smearing the tears that had started to run down them.

“Ma?” He stood, leaning over the table to wipe her cheeks. “Ma, Ma, please don’t cry. I’m alright, I’m alright.” He turned her head towards him. “Ma, I’m alright. Look at me, please.” 

“Spawn,” She brushes her hands. “I’m furious with you, because I was worried. And then you hide from me? She dropped her head in her hands, “You can’t keep things like this from me, I can’t worry.”

“Keep things?” Kuroo murmured. “Keep things! MA! You’ve been lying to me all week! All term! I know you have; I just don’t know what about.”

“I,” She looks like she’s about to deny it, hide it but then; “Yes. I have. But I will tell you soon. Please, be patient. And stay away from the green house!” 

“You won't even tell me about Kenma! What's with the scholar house? What was that that thing in the green house?"

"Friday." She said, lips pursed. Friday I will explain everything. And, if you get Kenma to eat that soup, you can let him know I'm giving him full disclosure. He can tell you anything - anything he wants about himself, regardless of some specific laws."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the Delay, as always, feedback in appreciated. 
> 
> Also, any ideas for fluffy moments between Kenma and Kuroo?

**Author's Note:**

> Again feedback and kudo's really appreciated. Motivate me children!


End file.
